Her Overlord {Crushed and SilverGrrl}

[Crushedbyheels]

Technically, he was a giant.

Seven feet and one half inches tall, he would have towered over the crowd even if he wasn't standing up onstage. A lot of children who developed Giantism became thin and reedy as their bodies failed to keep up with their own growth, but some, like Richard (Ricky) Kain, managed to keep themselves fit. it helped that he had grown proportionately, rather than with the excessive weight or distended limbs that cropped up sometimes. He didn't look like he had a "condition."

What he looked like was some kind of Greek god.

His towering, broad shouldered figure was covered in chiseled muscles, tanned and firm, that gleamed in the lights of the stage. His leather vest hung open to reveal a sculpted chest as he sang, sweat pouring down it in rivers as he belted to the crowd. He reached up to his full height for a moment, and the audience cheered, if for nothing else at the spectacle of someone so tall looming over them.

He finished the song and stepped back, taking a breath as the seething crowd of humanity below him roared it's appreciation. They were already calling for a third encore; he'd probably give it to them. But it was getting to be time to stop. Being on stage, singing, could make him feel TOO good, fill him with TOO much adrenaline. When it was over he'd need a way to wind down.

And there was only one thing in the world that could really calm him down.

He looked out over the crowd as he stepped up again, then motioned to the burly (compared to most people, at least) security guard. The guard had been expecting this; Mr. Kain almost always pointed a girl out to him before the last song of the show.

Kain scanned the crowd and licked his lips. A girl, a girl...

Her name tag said Alice. He noticed her because she was so small, making empty space among the throng. When he focused on seeing her through the larger concert goes, he could see she was beautiful, long haired, pale...

He'd always had an obsession with smaller women. Not normal sized women, who were still smaller than him, but petite women. Women he wasn't just taller than, women he could tower over. He pointed her out and the guard headed over to her as he began the song.

"I think we're done here, slut
I think I've had enough
of all the chatter chatter chatter
time to shut you up
I'll crush your throat in my hands
until it's quiet again
and when..."

The security guard found the girl in the crowd.

"Hey...Alice," he said, reading her name tag. "Mr. Kain would like to offer you a free tour backstage."

It's no use begging me
I want you down on your knees
I got to mercy to give
but if your hoping to live
I wanna hear you SCREAM....

 

[SilverGrrl]

In the pause between songs, Alice had to catch her breath. Her crazed dancing throughout the night, with an energy that belied her slender physique, had taken its toll, but the tiredness cramping her fingers and toes was not going to stop her enjoying this, the best night of her life, celebrating her birthday with a live gig by her favourite band, the greatest band, Her Overlord.

She'd managed to steer clear of the most dangerous part of the crowd and carve out a small space of her own; perhaps the people dancing near to her simply hadn't noticed her. For standing at barely five feet and weighing in under 90 pounds, she was not exactly an imposing specimen. It was hard to believe she and Ricky Kain were even of the same species. Hard to believe for anyone but her, at least; for when she saw him up there on stage, singing those lyrics that brought protests and criticisms wherever he toured, she felt a connection that seemed to energise every cell of her petite body. It sparked again now as she almost felt as though his eyes had met hers for a fleeting moment – and then a new song began.

She was off again, dancing with a passion that sent her long hair, normally a smooth, silky waterfall that trailed almost to her slim waist, now into a long frenzied whirl of black, whipping around her as she shouted along to the lyrics at the top of her soft, feminine voice. Her make-up, highlighting her prominent cheekbones, dashes of deep purple around her eyes, had withstood the packed heat and the physical exertion of dancing admirably. Her arms, encased from wrist to elbow in long, black lace fingerless gloves and weighed down by dozens of bright bracelets, waved above her; her flat, toned midriff, bared beneath the hem of her tightly cropped tank top, contorted, causing her navel piercing to flash in time with the arena lights.

A hand gripped her slender shoulder and she wheeled out of its grip – it wasn't unusual for the odd grope or pat, accidental or not, to be directed her way, but she would usually evade them to concentrate on enjoying the music – but this time, the hand followed, persistently, and she turned her dark eyes up to find the pressing source, her youthful face for a moment showing a flash of fear when she recognised the security badge. Had she done something wrong? Was she about to be ejected?

The imposing man spoke, but his words were completely lost beneath the noise of the band, so instead she allowed herself to be towed after him through the thronging crowd over to a side door. He disappeared for a moment and she was left to anxiously wait, fidgeting in distraction by pulling up one of her brightly coloured thigh high stockings that had fallen down, readjusting one of the silver necklaces that hung around the bare, pale white skin of her thin neck. Then he reappeared, and she began gnawing her lip in angst.

“Hey...Alice,” he said, this time just audible. “Mr. Kain would like to offer you a free tour backstage.”

If the anxiety of not knowing what was about to happen had been bad, the anxiety of now knowing what might was even worse. Led into a backstage corridor, the music so loud that the equipment scattered on the floor was rattling with reverb, she rubbed her hands together anxiously, glancing this way and that. Passing roadies paid her no attention and she was led to a huge door, emblazoned with a simple “KAIN” tag, outside which she waited. The security guard retreated, and after a couple of the most heart-stopping moments of her life, the music from the arena faded out. Perhaps the gig was at an end. Perhaps her night was just beginning.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

She was even more gorgeous than he'd thought when he saw her in the crowd. He was still flushed and sweating when he came backstage, the roar of the crowd following him, demanding more. They always wanted more. But they were unimportant for now, as he focused on the one audience member who would get anything more from him that night. He strode up to her, making sure to stand close so she could get a real sense of how much taller than her he was, how much power was in his gigantic frame. He looked down at her and smiled.

He loved that view. The view of a woman below him, under him. The thought that he could reach out and knock her aside any time he wanted, that he could almost step on her. But the violent thoughts were for later. The violent thoughts came after they were already calm, already relaxed. After he was sure they couldn't get away or that they didn't want to get away. It always amazed him they didn't see his darker side coming, after listening to his songs. He couldn't sing something that well he didn't feel.

But all of that was for later.

"Hi," he said, letting his eyes roam over her body and making no effort to hide it. No reason to pretend he'd called her back here for anything else. He gave her a knowing grin. "Did you enjoy the show? I saw you dancing in the crowd, you were beautiful. I thought you might like a private encore."

 

[SilverGrrl]

Alice's mouth parted slightly: she was literally awed by the physical presence of the man. Standing close, Kain seemed to loom two feet over her, maybe more; his immense musculature was so imposing she took a half step back. There was something about him, about the way his eyes freely roamed her body, about that arrogant grin, that bordered on the threatening; but she was far too beguiled to be terrified, yet.

“That was amazing – it's such an honour to meet you – you're such an inspiration – it was so special when you sang my favourite song – I just – I just – ”

She checked her babbling, taking a breath as she nervously flexed her fingers.

“I mean to say: yes, I'd love that.”

She had no idea what a private encore might entail, but she closed her lips into a hopeful, shy smile.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

"Excellent," he said. "I could use some inspiration after the show. Come on."

He brought her into his dressing room. It was a lot more inviting than the room on his bus or the one at his home. He didn't bring his pictures with him when he moved into his little temporary rooms on tour. All he had was a huge sofa and a few things he needed on stage; instruments, makeup, that kind of thing. He brought her over and sat down on the couch.

"Come," he said. It wasn't harsh, but it was definitely a command. He grinned at her again and reached out to cup her chin, making their eyes meet. He brushed some hair out of her eyes with his other hand.

"So," said, "now that we're here, what would you like me to do?"

 

[SilverGrrl]

Crossing to the couch, she found herself curling into the seat the moment he commanded her to, his deep voice inspiring both trust and obedience in an instant. Her wide, dark eyes took in his powerful visage as he sat down next to her, and she nervously folded her hands on top of her thighs, a bare white lap of skin that ran from the bottom of her huggingly tight black denim skirt to the bright tips of her high socks. When his hand curled under her chin her cheeks dimpled slightly in a smiling response; despite his palm dwarfing her jaw, his touch was gentle as he brushed errant strands of dark hair from her soft face.

But his question caught her off guard: she wasn't sure what to ask of him. She felt so totally in her thrall that telling him what to do seemed wrong, and she caught a few panicked breaths in her throat, trying to stay outwardly calm even while the pounding of her heart threatened to shred her ribcage. The bracelets on her wrists rustled lightly as she rubbed her hands back and forth.

Finally, she spoke, trying not to be conscious of how much her voice quavered through sheer nerves.

“The women – in your songs. Like 'Where She Belongs' or 'Taking It'. I mean. Maybe. One day. You might write a song about me?”

She shuffled a little closer on the couch, her shoulder several inches lower than his as she gazed up adoringly.

“What would I have to do to inspire you to do that?”

 

[Crushedbyheels]

"A song about you?" he said thoughtfully. "I don't know if you could handle that. If you really know my songs so well, you know I'm not gentle with the girls who inspire me that way."

He rested his hand on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, as he looked into her eyes.

"But you do inspire me," he said, meaning every word. Having her there, with the door closed and locked (he'd been careful to do it when she couldn't see) behind them, with her so desperate and nervous and eager, was making his mind churn. There were a million things he wanted to do to her, and it took real effort to hold some of them back. To remember to draw her in. The hand cupping her chin slid down, around the back of her neck, and he pulled her to him, gently but firmly, pressing their lips together in a deep kiss.

 

[SilverGrrl]

Alice felt his fingers snake around the ticklish nape of her neck, but before she could squirm, they were pulling her head into his. She did not resist, though, instead eagerly craning her neck forward to allow her to meet his kiss. Even his lips seemed big, compared to hers, but she accepted them warmly, allowing them to press against hers, prising them apart gently, and feeling the wet flickering of his tongue against hers. Her hands dangled by her sides to a point where she felt foolish, and she raised them, a little uncertainly, to rest on his shoulders, running back and forwards in admiration of the powerful muscles bunched there.

There she was, kissing Ricky Kain, her favourite singer. It was a scene so beautifully romantic she could not have dreamed it herself. She felt like the heroine from “She Never Says No”, except without all the leather, and choking, and spanking. She closed her eyes to concentrate on enjoying the energy flowing between them, tightening her grip on his shoulders slightly and pulling herself in against him tighter.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

He pulled her in close and his body practically engulfed her. He held the small girl to his chest, feeling her press against him, his tongue deep in her mouth as he let his hands roam over her back. He loved it. She felt so small, so fragile there against him. Just a little force, a little pressure, and he could crush her. He could suffocate her to death. He'd never killed a girl, but the knowledge that he could was just so intoxicating...like the knowledge that someday, someday he just might go that far...

But not tonight. Tonight was a first step, and that would definitely be a last step. He pulled her onto the crotch of his leather pants, making sure her pussy rested on his bulge under her skirt, as he slid his hands up under her shirt. Her skin was so soft and smooth, and he made a satisfied moan and gently thrust with his hips, rubbing his leather encased cock over her pussy. He began to slide the tank top up and off of her until it came to her wrists. There he twisted it, suddenly locking his hands together, while his other arm held her still, pressing her to his body.

 

[SilverGrrl]

A simple squeeze of his hand on her back caused Alice's spine to arch, tingling, feeling herself dragged into his strong, powerful embrace. When she slid forward she became ever more conscious of how he loomed over her, how easily she fitted into his grasp, and the feeling of, in that moment, totally belonging to him caught an excited gasp in her throat, resulting in a tiny moan that vibrated against the thick tongue sliding into her mouth. Pressing back against it with her own she climbed into the sloppy, wet kiss.

Her heart was pounding and she was now pressed close enough to him that he would be able to feel it, especially when she began to feel the top yanked from her, peeled up over the black lace of her bra, encasing her firm breasts. The pale skin beneath tingled with a sheen of excited perspiration, and her arms lifted over her head as the kiss broke with a smack. Her gloves and bracelets rolled up with the fabric of the top along her slim arms, until they all caught with a yank around her wrists.

Sitting there, the thin, black lace of her underwear barely shielding her from the grotesque, leatherbound bulge she could feel between her legs, her eyes were wide, nervous, flitting across his face as her hair tumbled down around her bare neck, latticed with the silver chains of her necklaces. Squirming, slightly, her seat uncomfortable, her crotch rubbing involuntarily against his, the complete vulnerability of her position, arms clasped tight above her head, suddenly hit her, and a thin, hesitating smile trembled along her lips as she tried to imagine what was about to transpire.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

He reached down and unzipped his pants, freeing his thirteen inch cock and letting it rest against her belly. It was rock hard and pulsing, and he thrust his hips a little, making the cock slide up and down on her belly, almost reaching between the dip of her breasts.

His mind was on fire. There was something about this girl that drove him absolutely wild. None of the others had done this to him. He'd always had cruel thoughts, darker fantasies. He'd even acted out some of them. But Alice made him want to do ALL of those things. made him want to crush her; not just physically, but mind and soul. He wanted to break her down and put her back together any way he wanted.

A vision of her, on his bed, cowering as he advance...

He grunted and thrust harder, the cock still just rubbing against her belly as he held her in place, his grip iron hard. Part of him was scared she would want to run away, that she'd scream the cock was too big and leave. But another part of him was hoping she'd try.

 

[SilverGrrl]

Alice squirmed uneasily when he unzipped himself, unleashing a solid column that reached all the way up her slender midriff. The pulsing tip almost brushed against the underwire of her bra; when held against her belly, it appeared like some forbidding weapon. It slid over the pale skin of her taut belly, trailing like it was marking its territory.

She was scared, honestly, scared, and yet this was her idol, her hero, her god; she knew she had to trust him, absolutely. She knew that he would never hurt her. She knew the lyrics of the songs were just for show, a kind of pantomime. She knew – she looked at his face. That slight scowl, that hunger in his eyes. She realized she didn't know anything.

“Please,” she finally said, in a small voice. “I want to...I mean, I want to...but, my wrists are starting to hurt.”

Her arms were still pinioned above her head, the material of her top bunched around them, cutting off the bloodflow slightly with how much it was digging in.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

"No," he said, pulling at the fabric so that he lifted her up. She was so small compared to him he could do it with a single hand. He reached out with the other hand and grabbed the top of her panties, and with a sharp tug he ripped them apart exposing her moist pussy. "No, they aren't. You don't know what hurt is, little girl. You only think you do."

He began to lower her onto his cock, steadying her with his free hand, as the massive tip pressing against the lips of her pussy and started to force it's way slowly inside of her.

"But I'm going to show you," he said. "You've inspired me, Alice, just like you wanted. I'm going to write a song about you that might just be my greatest work, and you get to live every verse of it right now."

 

[SilverGrrl]

Alice's brown eyes open wider, fixing on his malicious grin. For a second a thought hovered that this was a joke, a tease – but the ripping of the dark lace from her thighs confirmed that it was not. The snag hurt, momentarily, and more worryingly, it bared her to the upward press of the monstrous erection poised threateningly between her legs. Her wrists pinched and stung now, her fingers wiggling against the pins and needles, and she let out a little squeal.

“Wait, no. I didn't mean like that!” she tried to complain.

But the rest of the complaint was rushed from her in a sudden shaking of the breath in her lungs when he began to press himself inside her. Between her legs she felt as though she were being rubbed out by a giant eraser, but with her arms in that position, she couldn't resist, limited to arching her back, her nipples poking tensely against the black lace of her bra, her face frozen in a look of horror.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

His own face twisted into a cruel leer as he saw the helpless girl's terrified expression. He moaned out loud as her tight, tight, tight pussy slid over his cock, his massive shaft forcing it's way into her, spreading her apart, stretching her. He loved doing that to girls; knowing that he had the power to loosen them, make it harder for anyone but him to ever fuck them right again. The thought made him thrust his hips, forcing the cock a little deeper into her.

"I don't care," he said, starting to fuck her in and out, going a little deeper every time. "What did you think I was going to do? You knew what I wanted when I offered you a "private encore." And you wanted it just as much as I did. Maybe more. Now take it. Take every goddamn inch of my cock. It's what you came here for, isn't it? Most of the girls out there tonight would have begged to fuck me. You would have. The only difference is you got your wish. So stop complaining."

He suddenly let go of her wrists and grasped her hips, forcing her the rest of the way down onto his cock, burying it into her up to the hilt.

 

[SilverGrrl]

Alice was hardly a virgin; she was a young woman who enjoyed sex. But she'd never felt anything like she did when Kain pushed himself up inside her fully. It was as though he'd just opened another dimension inside her: a dimension of a confusing array of sensations, chief among them an overwhelming rash of pain that caused her slender frame to melt forward, leaning onto him weakly as she struggled. Even with her arms free she could do nothing to resist, letting them fall limply around his shoulders; her face contorted, her cheeks red, her eyes wide, her mouth an O of confusion.

Yet what he was saying, hurtful as it was, almost rang true. She had imagined so many fantastical scenarios in the moments she'd been waiting for him; maybe even before, watching him on stage, listening on his music. She'd imagined being one of his girls, serving him, imagined a night of tender lovemaking on a bed strewn with roses, imagined his soft kisses brushing her nape and collarbone. She just hadn't imagined how much his hands on her tiny waist could hurt as they pulled her further down onto his lap.

Leaning her head forward against his shoulder, she began to softly cry.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

He felt her tears falling against his chest and felt a well of triumph. he held the sobbing girl to him almost gently, then reached back and pulled her ass up a little, sliding some of the cock out, then pushing her down and back in again. He loved it; being everything to her, in that moment. The source of her pain. The source of her comfort.

"Come on," he whispered in her ear. "Come on, start fucking me. In and out, up and down. It's not difficult. And if you don't do it I might get angry...."

His tone was calm, almost tender, but there was no mistaking the warning in his voice.

 

[SilverGrrl]

Alice felt a dread chill when he said that; she did not even want to think of what might happen if she angered him. Sniffling bravely, she pulled the bunched up top and gloves from her tired arms, flexing her hands, and tried to summon a grip either side of his knotted shoulders. Clinging to him, her bare front rubbing against his muscled chest, sliding the fabric of her bra up and down and tickling at her sensitive nipples beneath, she tried as hard as she could to gain some purchase, scrabbling for a better grip with her legs.

It took effort but she was just about able to haul herself up ahead of his next thrust, riding it, and then slowly lowering herself onto him, her hips meeting his in a squeeze that pushed the breath from her and left her voice trembling with a tiny moan of discomfort and hurt. Her face had gone from flushed excitement to pallid terror and big droplets of tears hung in each of her dark brown eyes; she had to fight to control her wobbling lower lip. But she could not control the pitiful groans that she had to let out every time her hips sank onto his impaling tower. His sick leer loomed directly in her face, but she dared not look away, her whole body shaking in terror at realizing how much he was enjoying her suffering.

Up and down her tiny frame went, riding him as slowly as she could manage, the strain on her arms so great she occasionally slipped, causing her to jolt down in a manner that allowed him to stab up deeper inside her; each time she would shriek a soft wail of distress, even as sensations of a thousand varieties tingled every cell of her body.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

Now that he didn't have to guide her movements, he reached up and undid her bra, throwing it aside. he caressed her breasts and stomach, then wrapped his arms around her to her back. He put her limp arms around his neck as if hugging him as their thrusts began to synchronize and he reveled in her desperate moans. His arms around her, he pressed them together, engulfing her with his size again. Now he was inside her and all around her, inescapable.

He tangled one hand in her hair and pulled, tilting her head back, and he began to nuzzle into her neck, biting down on her hard, with an almost animal smile. He would take his teeth off her every few seconds to whisper in her ear.

"My god you're such a tight little slut," he said. "Come on, work it harder, you can do better than that, whore. Let me feel you really fuck me..."

 

[SilverGrrl]

Her body felt utterly used as his fingers trailed possessively over the firm slopes of her breasts, brushing at the hardening dark peaks of her nipples and running down her the curve of her spine. In her eyes, the pool of tears overflowed, and a single drop rolled down each of her cheek, dribbling down to her chin to drip onto her bared chest. Her arms clung tightly to him, fighting for leverage, desperate to stay ahead of his thrusts to lessen the impact of his huge member, but his harsh words hissed in her ear confirmed her fate. Her neck stung wildly where he bit at it, the tender skin blushing red, and she let loose more tears, her lips trembling wildly.

Gripping on with legs, using the friction of her high socks – the only clothing she'd been allowed to keep by this stage – she tried to go a little faster, but the growing pain was blocking out any pleasure on her part. Rolling her hips sideways in a circular motion worked a little, but it only served to allow him to damage new, unexplored parts of her insides, and futile whimpers started sparking from her mouth.

“Please...please...please...” she was gasping into his ear, over and over, her words meaningless as the pain of bouncing up and down on him, faster and faster, in time to his sick orders, overwhelmed her senses. She dared not whisper for mercy even while her body screamed for it.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

The quivering, weeping girl in his arms was driving him wild, he bit into her again with a genuine snarl, this time drawing just a tiny drop of blood.

"So it's not enough for you, cunt?" he hissed dangerously. He rolled the two of them over, throwing her back onto the couch as he now knelt beside it. He looked down at her...so far down. Her view must be fantastic; his muscled chest rising over her, coursing with sweat, his cruel leer looking down at her....

Almost as good as his view. she lay before him with her knees up around her ankles, not a stitch of clothing but her thigh high socks. Her pussy was distended and red where he had forced himself into it. Her face was bright red, covered with tears, and he pleas and moans made her mouth twist and twitch in a way that seemed so desperate and futile. As if she had already faced the fact that there was no escape and had nothing left to do but cry and beg....and knew that even that was hopeless.

Now that he had full freedom of motion, he began to fuck her in earnest, one hand on her hip, pounding in and out of her like a factory piston. As he fucked her, he reached up one massive hand and slid it around her neck, applying the tiniest amount of pressure to her throat with his thumb.

 

[SilverGrrl]

Alice screeched when he nipped hard at her neck. It felt raw and when his mouth left her, she clamped a hand on, feeling torn flesh, even blood. She was sobbing openly now, her body shaking with the effort of crying, her face streaming with tears that stung the bitemarks on her neck and dripped onto her chest. Her long hair was wildly messed, her bare skin covered in marks where Kain's unrelenting grip had raked her.

When he towered over her, lying winded on the couch, it was like she was seeing some vast monster rise from an abyss. Seven foot of sweat gleaming muscle cast a shadow over her pallid frame and her eyes widened in terror at the look of pure lustful rapaciousness that darkened the features of the man she had come to the gig tonight to worship. She could find no words to protest, dared not resist with her arms or legs, did not even hazard a breath, lying in still repose for her fate.

He resumed, and the force of his attack knocked her senses spinning. Half dazed, she could at least take some comfort from knowing she was not fully experiencing the extent of the hurt he was pouring into her, barely able to register the extent to which his size was going to rearrange her, and mark her.

Then a hand, more a paw, really, crept up. At first she feared he was going to strike her, but it settled on her ribcage, a thumb that seemed the size of her wrist extending up to lightly press down on her neck. She felt the soft skin yield and her eyes filled with a new set of tears as a shallow croak of “No!” died in her soundless throat.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

He heard the strangled exclamation and his grin widened, mixing with his lustful glare to create a mask of pure insanity across his face.

"That's right, slut," he said, shoving into her extra hard on the word "slut," "You could fucking die here tonight, slut. I could just fucking choke the life right out of you. But at least you got to meet me before it happened, right? And think how beautiful it will sound in your song, chocked to death skewered on the cock of your idol. I told you you didn't know what pain was, slut. My dick is just lesson one."

Still pounding into her, he started to gently press harder and harder on her windpipe.

 

[SilverGrrl]

His words were making Alice's heart pound so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest. Nothing was like she'd imagined: the face that adorned every poster in her bedroom was now twisted into an evil mask of pain above her; the body that she'd worshipped on stage was forcing itself on her in brutal, jolting thrusts; the hand she'd thought might brush hair from her cheek was threatening to choke the life from her.

As his grip tightened, stars sprang into view at the periphery of her vision. Time was starting to drip. Whatever he was saying now she could barely discern; she heard him spit “slut” at her but little else; it made no sense. Her long lashed eyes fluttered, her body twisting and contorting as she desperately strove for a glimmer of a breath somewhere that she could cling to. All the while she was dully conscious of the wet slaps of him driving himself ever deeper inside her.

 

[Crushedbyheels]

He suddenly let go of the pressure on her throat and slapped her to make sure she was conscious. He didn't want her passing out while he was fucking her; not yet, anyway. He thrust into her harder and longer now; it probably wouldn't be too long before he came...

And he was already making plans for the next step.

She wasn't the first girl he'd raped like this. She was quite right; most of his songs were about girls he had fucked. An awful lot of them on the road. He could already tell Alice's song was going to be magnificent. But she was different. He wanted her. He wanted to keep her, his, forever, and he was already making plans on how to do it, in the tiny portion of his mind not caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that came from having her pussy clamped onto his cock while she choked and gasped and wept.